On the Loose
by bionic4ever
Summary: OtL1: A serial killer has moved from Los Angeles to Ojai. Jaime is determined to help stop him, but will a painful secret from her past or multiple felonies in the present keep her from that goal? Has she inadvertently made herself the next target?
1. Chapter 1

**On the Loose**

Chapter One

_Local retailers report sales of mace and similar self-defense products have more than tripled, but police continue to insist there is no cause for panic._

_"Vigilance is always advisable," LAPD Chief Phillip Morissey stated at yesterday's press conference, "for all citizens – men as well as women. While the recent spike in violent crime is worrisome, there is no indication that we have a serial rapist on the loose. I've heard the same rumors and speculation that you have, and it's all exactly that: rumors. The increased attention being paid to these crimes may even have attracted copy cat criminals, driving the incidence rate higher. For this reason, I am urging the public to remain cautious and aware, but also – equally important – to remain calm."_

_- - - - - -_

**"IDIOT!"**

"I haven't said anything yet," Steve protested lightly, raising one eyebrow as he glanced at Jaime.

"Steve, have you seen this garbage?" Jaime seethed, tossing the newspaper onto the conference table with enough anger to send its pages fluttering throughout the room.

"I don't even read the L.A. papers when I'm in California; out here, there's really no reason. Why don'cha try a DC paper instead? When in Rome..."

"Morissey might actually get a clue," Jaime muttered, "if his head wasn't stuck so far up his -"

"Good morning!" Oscar said from the doorway, before Jaime could finish her thought. He looked curiously at her for a moment before continuing with the morning's business. He smiled broadly at his 'Dynamic Duo' as he sat down across from them. "Your fifth successful mission as a team – congratulations!"

"We're gettin' the hang of it," Steve told him, taking Jaime's hand. Jaime barely seemed to notice the gesture. Her mind was obviously somewhere else. Oscar noticed the lack of response, and it confirmed something Rudy had mentioned: during their post-assignment check-ups, the doctor had sensed an undefinable tension between the normally harmonious pair.

Oscar nodded, deciding to probe deeper. "Jaime, how does teaming with Steve compare to working solo?"

"We're great together," Jaime affirmed. "Once Steve learns to treat me like a full-fledged partner, we'll be great when we work together, too."

"Thanks, Sweetheart," Steve grumbled, slumping down in his chair.

"Jaime, go on, please," Oscar prompted. He noticed that Steve had let go of her hand.

"It's a lot better now than when we started..." she hedged, "and he does mean well..."

"_But_ -" Oscar said softly.

"He needs to remember I'm not his girlfriend when we're on assignment. I'm his partner – his _back-up_ – not a little porcelain doll he needs to protect. Not his subordinate, either."

"And she needs to know when to listen to the voice of experience," Steve added, staring sullenly at the tabletop.

"Experience doesn't give you seniority. Not here," Jaime retorted. They were both getting a little carried away as they released the stresses of the mission and their not-quite-perfect working relationship. "I get my orders from Oscar, not from you."

"Suggestions, based on a few years of experience, are _not_ orders -"

"Uh-huh. Right."

Oscar had heard enough. Jaime and Steve had never fought in front of him – they normally didn't fight at all – and he knew he had to nip this disagreement in the bud, before it exploded into all-out war. "**_Stop it_**!" he demanded in a booming voice of authority. "You both had very valid concerns, but you're starting to sound like two-year-olds!"

Jaime and Steve looked sheepishly at each other, re-joined hands and apologized profusely using just their eyes before turning to their boss. "Sorry, Oscar," they said in a single, very contrite voice.

Oscar smiled warmly. _This _was more like it.

- - - - - -

"What time does your flight leave?" Steve asked Jaime when their debriefing session was over.

"Trying to get rid of me already, Austin?" she joked, then turned serious. "I wouldn't blame you if you were. I'm...really sorry -"

"Jaime, you didn't do anything wrong. Oscar asked you the question, and I would never have expected you to lie to him. I asked about your flight because I was hoping to take you to lunch, if you have time."

"As much as I miss Ojai, I need a little down time before a cross-country flight. I'm not leaving 'til tomorrow night, and I'd love to go to lunch." They headed down the hall, arm-in-arm. As they crossed the lobby, it looked like a secretaries' convention had just concluded at the receptionist's desk.

Jaime pulled Callahan aside as she was leaving the group. "Peggy, what's going on?"

"That home invasion rapist out in L.A..." Callahan said, obviously shaken.

"He struck again?" Jaime guessed. If she was right, that would make six victims in two weeks. The attacks so far had all followed the same pattern, even if Chief Morissey wouldn't admit it. Women were being accosted in their own homes, badly beaten and raped. The attacker would then tie them securely and leave them – alive, in serious pain and unable to summon help.

"Two more women, but that's not the worst of it. I mean, any attack like that is horrible," the secretary stammered. "This time, he didn't just tie them up and leave them alone, though; he **_killed _**them." Peggy looked at her friend with wide, fear-filled eyes. "Jaime, one of them was in Ojai."

- - - - - -


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Even given the danger that had now touched her hometown, Jaime was unusually quiet and pensive during lunch. Steve misread her mood as a reluctance to return home. "You could stay out here until they catch that creep," he suggested. "I know _I'd_ feel better." When Jaime's only response was a single, silent teardrop, he kept talking. "I'm still allowed to be protective when we're not working, right?"

Jaime nodded. "And I love you for it." She smiled at him, but Steve could see that the emotion never quite reached her eyes. "But you – of all people – know I can defend myself."

"Of course you can, but this is serious. You're living all alone; if this idiot broke into your place in the middle of the night and conked you in the head...I can't stand to think about that. It scares _me."_

"But I just moved in, and I like it there." When Jim and Helen had sold the ranch so they could travel around the world, Jaime had found a quaint little house on the outskirts of Ojai and Steve had helped her move in and get settled. "I'm comfortable – it's _home_ – and it suits me. I'm not gonna let some lunatic drive me out. Besides, the doors and windows all have double locks and the glass is reinforced, remember?"

Of course, he did. Steve had been the one to install the nearly unbreakable glass. "Jaime," he pleaded quietly, "please think about this. It'd only be for a little while..."

"No."

Steve looked directly into Jaime's soft hazel eyes, and when he saw the firm determination in her expression and the stubborn set of her jaw, he knew the discussion was over.

- - - - - -

That afternoon, while Jaime was back at the OSI safe house, resting, Steve was meeting with Oscar and Rudy in Oscar's office. His two friends were listening while Steve vented, pacing back and forth across the room.

"She is the most stubborn, exasperating, hard-headed -"

"Like someone else we know, maybe?" Oscar commented with an ironic grin.

"Dammit – can't you send her on assignment -?"

"She just got back from an assignment," Oscar reminded him.

"You could keep her for a few days of observation," Steve suggested to Rudy.

"She's in perfect health," the doctor told him.

"Steve," Oscar began, placing a paternal hand on his shoulder and trying to urge him into a chair, "she'll be fine. Like she pointed out so clearly to both of us this morning, Jaime can take care of herself. The odds of anything like that happening to her are almost non-existent anyway -"

"Almost isn't good enough when we're talking about Jaime's safety and well-being."

"Steve -"

"You know how much she means to me. I can't stand the thought of anything happening to her, especially _that_."

Jaime, who'd found herself unable to sleep, got off the elevator just in time to 'overhear' what Steve had said. Before any of the three men saw her, she went back the way she'd just come, with a fresh torrent of tears streaming uncontrollably down her face.

- - - - - -

Steve raised one hand to knock on the door of the safe house. Jaime was expecting him – they were going out for breakfast – and he had his own key, but he didn't want to startle her. A crash from inside and Jaime crying out in anger or pain made knocking or using a key non-issues as Steve kicked the door open and went flying into the house. He found her in the rear bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed and staring at a bashed-in television screen. She was alone.

"Jaime...?" he said tentatively.

"Another body in Ojai," she told him very quietly.

Steve, already at her side, wrapped Jaime tightly in his arms and found she was trembling. He looked into her eyes and was surprised to see no fear – only white-hot anger.

"Morissey _let_ this happen!" Jaime seethed. "He should've seen a pattern after the third attack, but even after _five_ women were traumatized - for life - that idiot was saying there was no pattern, no serial rapist, no cause for panic. Now women are _dying_! He could've done something -"

"Not necessarily," Steve said with caution. "Maybe he's playing it so close to the vest for a reason. They might know a lot more than they're saying..."

"The man is an imbecile! He should've at least issued a warning – _something_!" Jaime thought for a moment. "You think Oscar would put us on the case?"

"If they did ask the Feds for help, it'd be the FBI, not us."

"Maybe I could be an independent investigator," she suggested.

"No such animal." Steve knew Jaime wouldn't like what he was about to say, but he _had_ to say it. "I want you to stay here until they catch this guy, especially if he's moved on to Ojai."

"I can't."

"Please, Sweetheart – _for me?"_

"_I'm going home_, Steve."

- - - - - -

Steve very reluctantly kissed Jaime goodbye that night and held her close for several beats too long. He'd offered to fly her back to Ojai himself, on a private plane, but she seemed to be on an independence kick, explaining she had a lot of thinking to do. He watched as she boarded the plane and even though he could see she wasn't afraid, he couldn't stop worrying. In Steve's eyes, Jaime had never seemed more vulnerable.

- - - - - -


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Very early the next morning, Jaime was on the phone, calling Oscar. Once she'd arrived back at her house, she'd been awake for the rest of the night, flipping the TV from channel to channel and scouring the news reports for any indication that _action _was being taken. There was no mention anywhere of the FBI arriving to help, and this was what Jaime needed to talk to Oscar about. Where were they, and what was taking so long? Oscar promised he'd find out. When he finally called her back, the news wasn't good, and he braced himself for the explosion he knew was imminent.

"What the **_hell _**do you mean, 'they're not coming'?" Jaime demanded.

"Morissey never called them," Oscar told her carefully. "In fact, the California Bureau called the LAPD to offer assistance and they were turned down flat."

"I don't believe it..."

"Babe, this is no excuse, but a lot of police departments prefer to be separate, independent entities; makes them look better, and -"

"Not in this case! They look like – no, they _are –_ incompetent, bumbling fools! I'm gonna have a talk with Morissey myself and help him wrap his tiny little mind around some basic facts -"

"Jaime, I want you to stay put -"

"- and if that doesn't work," she fumed, not stopping to listen to her boss, "well...I'll think of something."

Jaime hung up before Oscar had a chance to say anything more. Sighing, he pressed his intercom button. "Peggy, I need you to find Steve Austin. Tell him to get here _yesterday _and be ready to travel."

- - - - - -

The irony of the situation was almost comical, but Steve was not laughing. He knew he should be reading her the riot act (a mild version of it, anyway), but as he stood outside the tiny cell and looked at Jaime through the bars, his heart broke for her. She was huddled in the far corner, sitting on the thin metal bench/cot with her knees drawn up to her chest. Her face was pale and tear-stained, and she looked as out of place as an elephant in an operating room.

"Hi," was all Steve could manage as his emotions overwhelmed him.

"Steve...I'm so sorry you had to come all the way out here...for this," Jaime said softly, unable to look at him.

"Actually, Oscar sent me out here 'cause he thought you could use the support, but when I landed at the Base, there was a message for me that you were...here."

"What happens now?"

"I spoke to the DA, and he's willing to give you a break, a kind of professional courtesy, but Morissey has to agree."

Jaime finally raised her head. "And?"

"He won't even discuss it."

"Oh, God..."

"He _will _talk to Oscar, though; he really has no choice. Hopefully, that'll get him to change his mind, but Sweetheart, you know these are serious charges -" Steve couldn't bear to think of the possibility of Jaime going on trial, being sent to prison...

"But I didn't _do _anything!"

"You walked into LAPD Headquarters," Steve began, very gently, "grabbed the Chief of Police by the collar and offered to help him grow a brain – while you took him off his feet and held him in the air."

"The man has absolutely no common sense, Steve! And...I didn't actually _hurt _him."

Steve shook his head sadly. He'd known Jaime for most of her life – knew her better than she knew herself, in many ways – and he had no idea what had possessed her. Her actions seemed so out of character! He also knew beyond any doubt that she hadn't done this out of the clear blue sky. Something had driven her to such extreme actions, something stronger than Jaime's own aversion to violence, and Steve intended to find out what that was.

"You may need to apologize to Morissey -"

"_No._"

"Jaime, if that's what's gonna get you out, then -"

"Then I'll just have to stay here," Jaime told him, lowering her head to rest on her knees. She raised one hand to quickly brush a single tear from her eye. "I...I just can't say that. I won't lie."

Steve was stymied; she looked so small and so frightened, but her soft voice was firm and resolute. "I'll go see what we can do."

- - - - - -

Steve had a lot to accomplish before he could get Jaime out of that cell. Several phone calls went back and forth between OSI Headquarters, Steve and the LAPD. When the details had finally been hammered out, he had to wait for a delivery from the nearest pharmacy that he'd had been ordered to accept, at Rudy and Oscar's request, but he couldn't envision any circumstance in which he'd be able to force himself to _use_ it.

It was several hours before he could return to Jaime, and Steve found her in the same position she'd been in earlier, but she'd turned to face the wall. He didn't have to ask; he knew the sight of the bars was too much for her to bear. She didn't look up when he approached with the guard and seemed not to notice the cell door swinging open, so Steve stepped inside and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"Jaime? C'mon – we're leaving now." He helped her to her feet and as they entered the hallway, the guard stepped in front of them to dispense with the formalities.

"Ma'am, you are being released into the official custody of the OSI, and the physical custody of this Agency representative. Charges are not being dropped and bail has not been paid; you are hereby remanded into Federal custody from the custody of the Los Angeles Police Department." With this statement finished, the guard opened the exit door and Steve led Jaime to his car. She still had not uttered a word.

- - - - - -


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Steve sighed in absolute frustration. During the ride from the jail, Jaime had taken the 'right to remain silent' quite literally, He'd always had a remarkable ability to know what she was thinking, how she was feeling, without having to ask, but suddenly he not only couldn't read her – he was unable to _reach_ her. From the kitchen, where he was pouring coffee, Steve could see her curled up in one corner of her sofa, in much the same position she'd taken back in the cell. Her body was a closed circle, with her feelings and motives locked away, as well. He picked up the two steaming mugs – one with the scoop of cocoa that could usually make Jaime smile – and headed back into the living room to try again.

Jaime looked up as Steve sat down beside her, and accepted her mug with a sad little smile. As his hand reached over to tenderly caress her cheek, Jaime struggled to maintain a stoic mask while she longed to fall into his arms and dissolve into tears. She needed Steve's calm understanding and ached for the physical comfort of his embrace.

"Jaime, _what happened_?"

"I walked in," she stated in a quiet monotone, "grabbed him and -"

"No; I mean what happened to _you_? Violence isn't _in_ you!"

"Maybe it is."

"Jaime..."

"I don't wanna talk about it," Jaime insisted.

"Well, you won't have that option tomorrow, when Oscar gets here."

"Oscar's coming?"

"First thing in the morning."

"Great." She started to get up, but Steve placed a gentle hand on her arm.

"It might be easier if you sound me out first," he suggested.

"I...can't." Damn – she wanted to! Jaime hated this new 'me-against-the-world' feeling, but she knew Steve wouldn't understand and would probably never see her quite the same again. No, Jaime knew she had to deal with this one all by herself. "I'm gonna go to bed now, ok?"

Steve nodded, his own spirit sagging, and gave her hand a slight squeeze as she turned to leave the room. He pulled the afghan from the back of the sofa and stretched out, certain it would be a sleepless night.

- - - - - -

Jaime pulled back the covers and, still fully wide-awake, climbed into her bed. She knew how very much Steve loved her, and in the past few months, working together, she found herself falling in love with him, too, all over again. Keeping something like this from him felt rotten, but the words she'd overheard him saying in Oscar's office echoed in her brain: ...**_especially that_**. He'd been very clear about the fact that there was one thing he couldn't deal with, thus putting the first bricks in place on the wall Jaime now felt surrounding her and closing her off from Steve. She tossed and turned restlessly, the past and the present an overwhelming blur, until – several hours later – someone screamed.

It was one lone sound, bloodcurdling in its intensity and then suddenly cut short. Jaime was out of bed without thinking about it, and headed for the front door, but someone else was also still awake.

"Where are you going?" Steve asked, with a light grip on her arm.

"Let go – I have to help her!"

"Help who?" He tightened his grip as much as he could without hurting her. "You know I can't let you leave."

"Yeah, well, arrest me later. It's happening again, right now!" Jaime could see the questioning look on Steve's face. "That scream! Steve, _let me go_!"

"I didn't hear a scream," he told her, trying to lead her back to the sofa as she pulled even harder toward the door.

"Of course you didn't; my ear...Steve, **_please_**!" In her struggle to break away, Jaime managed to make it as far as the front porch.

"If someone needs help, we'll call the police -"

"We've seen how much good _that_ does!"

Steve heard the note of hysteria in Jaime's voice and realized he'd have to take the action he'd been prepared for but hoped to never use. "I'm sorry, Sweetheart," he said, sweeping her firmly up into his arms and carrying her back into the house. Before she had a chance to protest, he took the syringe Rudy had prescribed for emergency use from his shirt pocket and stabbed the needle into her hip. As Jaime's body lost its fight and Steve lowered her onto the sofa, he had to wipe tears of guilt and regret from his own eyes before tending to the woman he loved.

"Steve...why?" she mumbled weakly, stunned by his apparent betrayal.

Steve knelt on the floor next to the sofa, trying to calm her down, his heart breaking with the thought that Jaime might never trust him again. "I'm so sorry," he whispered, brushing the hair from her eyes and kissing her forehead. He took her hand and rubbed her palm gently with his thumb, something that would normally comfort her, but this time it seemed to make things worse. Jaime looked at him with the saddest eyes he'd ever seen, eyes brimming with tears that overflowed soundlessly into streams, rivers and then torrents, covering her cheeks.

"I...have to...help...her, Steve," she insisted, without moving.

"You've got serious charges over your head," he reminded her. "Felonies, and if you leave this house, you're writing your own ticket for _decades_ in prison. I won't let that happen to you." Jaime turned her head away from Steve, hiding her face in the sofa cushions in utter despair. Her reactions didn't match the situation, and Steve knew he had no idea what was really going on in her head. "Talk to me, Jaime – **_please_**? I'll move Heaven and Earth to help you; you know that."

Jaime shook her head, but her emotions were so close to the surface that they boiled over anyway. "It's horrible...what's been happening...and I...I could've saved this one." She rolled over on the sofa, but was completely unable to meet his eyes with her own. "He's hurt too many women already...Steve, no one should have to go through what I...what they...went through."

- - - - - -


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Jaime closed her eyes, letting the sedative take control, but Steve had heard her, loud and clear. _No one should have to go through what **I**_ _went__ through._

"I love you, Jaime," he said through his own tears. He kissed her, then picked up the phone. After making sure Rudy would be on the plane to Ojai with Oscar, Steve carried Jaime into her bedroom, tucked the blankets carefully around her and sat down beside her, holding her gently in his arms while she slept. When she began flailing about, in the throes of a nightmare, he held her a little closer and whispered to her softly. "It's ok, Sweetheart. You're safe. I love you so much, and I won't let anyone hurt you. _You're safe_."

Jaime's eyes snapped open as she tried to sort nightmare from reality and decided they were both the same now. She started to sink into the comfort of Steve's arms, then remembered the Freudian slip she'd made, just before falling asleep. "Oh, God," she sobbed, turning away from him.

Steve didn't want to force contact, and opened his arms as Jaime rolled to the other side of the bed. Still, he remained close and available, "Jaime," he began, very quietly, "that creep out there...he hurt you, too, didn't he?"

"No..."

"I heard what you said, and I hope you know you can tell me anything. I've always loved you; please let me help you."

"It...wasn't him," Jaime finally said, unable to keep it inside any longer. "I can fight now – defend myself." Steve said nothing, wanting to let her keep talking if she was willing, but he touched her hand and looked lovingly and unflinchingly into her eyes, telling her in every way he could 'I'm here, and I love you'.

"In college...my Freshman year..." Jaime took a deep breath that failed to steady her. "He was...he played Varsity Football, was in the best fraternity on campus. I shouldn't have gone with him...if I'd known, I – I wouldn't have gone..." She buried her face in shaking hands, unable to continue.

"Sweetheart, whatever happened, it _wasn't _your fault. _You_ didn't do anything wrong -"

"That's not what the police said."

"_What_?"

"After...**it**...was over, I just wanted to pretend it never happened. When I got back to the dorm, I told my roommate I'd been in a fight; she didn't believe me. Turned out, she dated him a few months before – and...he hurt her, too."

"Jaime, I'm so sorry," Steve said softly. Her reactions in the last few days were suddenly making a lot more sense.

Now that she'd begun and the floodgates were open, Jaime kept talking, needing to get rid of all of it. "I stayed in bed for almost a week, didn't even get up to eat. Didn't wanna live anymore, really. My roommate got so worried that she said if I didn't get help, she was gonna call Jim and Helen. I saw the campus nurse, and she talked me into reporting him." Jaime sniffled and closed her eyes, wincing at the memory. "The detective...Steve, he _laughed _at me! He said everyone knew what this guy was like, that I must've known what he was after, and shouldn't have gone out with him if I didn't want it." Her tears, which had begun to subside, were once again flowing freely. "But...I didn't know...I really didn't know! And...I didn't want..._that_!"

"Of course you didn't, Sweetheart," Steve told her in his most soothing voice. He reached for Jaime's hand, but she was already up and out of the bed, standing at the window with her back to him. She hugged herself tightly as she tried to find the words she needed.

"Steve, you don't have to keep being so nice. I heard what you said in Oscar's office, so I know how you really feel."

"How I feel...? Jaime, _I love you_ – exactly the same as I did yesterday and the same way I will tomorrow and every day after that!" Steve wished she'd turn and look at him, so she could see how very much he meant it. "I don't know what you think you heard, but -"

"You said this was the one thing you couldn't stand, couldn't deal with. I don't blame you; I haven't done so great dealing with it, either."

"Oh, Jaime – no..." Steve was instantly at her side, trying his best to look into her eyes. "I meant I couldn't stand the thought of anyone hurting you like that. It would – it _does_ – break my heart, but not because I see you any differently, and my feelings for you certainly haven't changed. Jaime, I love you, and even though I can't begin to imagine what you must've gone through, when you hurt, I hurt. I just wish you'd told me back then, so you wouldn't have had to feel so alone."

"I wish I had, too," Jaime whispered. She finally turned to face him, and when she looked into his eyes and saw only love there, she sank gratefully into his arms, too weary and drained to cry anymore. "That's why Morissey got me so...so angry. When he wouldn't take things seriously -"

"He was just like the detective who laughed at you," Steve finished, understanding completely. Jaime nodded, and Steve led her back to the bed, tucked her in and held her close, until long after she'd fallen asleep.

- - - - - -


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Steve was waiting with a fresh pot of coffee when Rudy and Oscar came up the front sidewalk the next morning. He met them on the steps, handing them each a mug. "Jaime's asleep; she had a really rough night," he told them.

"We all did," Oscar said sternly. "One of my most promising new operatives is looking at serious prison time." His voice softened. "I imagine you've been to Hell and back, too, Pal."

"I had to give her the sedative," Steve admitted.

Oscar stiffened. "She tried to run – already?"

"Not exactly."

"What – _exactly_ – happened?"

Steve wouldn't betray Jaime's confidence, but he could see Oscar was beginning to picture having her placed in shackles and taken away. How could he convince him otherwise, without divulging the personal agony Jaime had trustingly revealed to him?

"There were extenuating circumstances for what she did."

"Circumstances that excuse multiple felonies?"

"Well...no. But -"

"Steve," Oscar said in a gruff voice, while deep inside, his own heart was as heavy as his friend's, "we can't put emotions above the law. Unfortunately, we've got a job to do here."

"Jaime's not a job to me," Steve said firmly.

"We took on certain responsibilities by bringing her here -"

"Put me on leave, then, or suspend me. I'm officially turning responsibility for 'the prisoner' over to you. Me? I'm gonna help the woman I love."

Rudy, who'd been silent until that moment, stepped between them. "We _all _want to help Jaime; that's why we're here. If we didn't care about her, she'd still be in that jail cell, and we'd be in Washington."

The three men were silent for a moment as they realized they were on exactly the same page. Before they could discuss what their next move might be, a scream (one that everyone could hear this time) pierced the quiet stillness of the early morning. It came from somewhere up in the hills, and was followed by the dull thudding crash of 'unbreakable' glass being shattered. As the the three of them ran into the house, toward Jaime's bedroom, Steve uttered a very fast, silent prayer. His gut told him Jaime had just done something that not only put her beyond any legal help they could offer her, but would also seriously endanger her life.

Steve's gut was right.

- - - - - -

The second scream in less than 12 hours woke Jaime from a sound sleep, and she reacted immediately, by sheer instinct. She slammed her right fist into the window's security glass and dove through headfirst, clearing the sill mere seconds before Steve found the broken window. She could hear Steve calling out to her; hell, he could probably _see_ her with that eye of his, but she veered off in the direction of the scream at top bionic speed. Her mind's eye could picture what was happening: the first scream had been a sneak attack, a capture, and the second scream was the beginning of the end, but not if Jaime had anything to say about it.

_If Morissey and his Keystone Cops won't stop it, _she thought to herself, _then I will. _She knew Steve was probably already coming after her, but Jaime had the advantages of a head start and a full night's rest, as well as her own fierce determination driving her onward. She could hear branches and ground cover shifting and snapping, and then the sickening sound of cruel blows striking human flesh. It wasn't a home invasion – this time, it was happening outside. She paused for the briefest of moments to get her bearings and orient herself to the location of the attack.

Jaime covered several hills, faster than she'd ever run before, and as she crested the highest one, she saw them on the other side, in a small clearing at the bottom of a ravine. She was glad she didn't have bionic sight, since what she could see was horrific enough: a young girl was trying to scramble, crab-like, away from blows being reined upon her by the much larger man she wasn't quite able to evade. Even from her distance, Jaime could see the blood and hear the girl's pitiful, muffled cries. The man faced away from Jaime, between her and his victim, and Jaime grabbed the opportunity, picking up a boulder at the same time the attacker stopped using his fists and picked up a knife. Jaime sent the rock down the hillside, knocking him over like a bowling pin.

The attacker was lying on his stomach, very still and quiet, and Jaime turned to the badly injured victim, intending to carry her to safety, or at least to a place where Steve would find her and summon help. She was shocked to see – not a young woman – a girl, a _child_, no more than twelve years old. "It's over," she said, trying to reassure the girl, when the sound of a gun being cocked froze her in place, between attacker and victim, where she could at least protect the girl from any further harm.

"That was incredibly stupid," the man snarled. Jaime whirled around just as the gun went off, and the well-aimed bullet that'd been meant for her heart hit her right arm instead, and it instantly went limp and useless at her side. When she saw the attacker's face, the shock of his identity was even worse than the shock of sudden injury, and Jaime lost valuable seconds trying to absorb it all.

"Morissey..." she whispered, thoroughly stunned.

"Brilliant observation," the police chief chuckled with blood lust in his eyes. "Now, just like the others who figured out who I am, you get to die."

- - - - - -


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Steve's eye zeroed in from several hilltops away, and he saw the attacker's identity even before Jaime did, then saw him raise his gun and fire. He began relaying information using his datacom as he raced toward the site, unable for the moment to see how badly Jaime had been hit, unsure if she was even still alive.

"Oscar! We need the Medivac, an ambulance and all the men you can get, as fast as you can get 'em here! It's Morissey – and he shot Jaime!"

- - - - - -

Jaime could hear Steve talking on the datacom, and although she couldn't see him, she knew he was nearby. Morissey was focused on her now, forgetting the young girl for the moment, so Jaime backed away from him, toward a grove of trees, knowing he would follow. She figured he'd have less of a chance to get another clear shot at her in there, and while she kept him distracted Steve would find and be able to save the girl.

It didn't work out that way. Steve hit the clearing at a dead run, saw Morissey with his gun leveled at Jaime, and to Steve, it looked like she'd been cornered. "Drop the gun, Chief," he ordered in a loud, angry voice.

Morissey spun around with a hard growl of frustration. His finger was already on the trigger, and only Jaime's kick to the small of his back saved Steve from a bullet to his head. The shot went wild as the gunman went down, but on his way to the ground, Morissey got off another shot, hitting Jaime in the leg and taking her down, as well. The crazed police chief snaked out his arm and pulled her into a headlock, stopping Steve in his tracks as his other hand pressed the gun to Jaime's head.

"Back off, Colonel," he threatened, pulling Jaime to her feet, "unless you _want _to watch her die. I've got a score to settle here, and it won't be pretty."

"You're already surrounded," Steve told him, keeping his voice calm and steady.

"You think I don't know that? I'm not stupid!" Morissey tightened his arm around Jaime's neck, yanking hard as her injured leg began to give out, nearly choking her as he forced her to remain standing. "I know I'm not leaving here alive," he hissed. "But then again, neither is she."

Jaime's eyes met Steve's, trying to tell him everything she needed to say in one brief glance. Steve knew Morissey was holding her too close for the OSI sharpshooters to try and take him out and that any other help might arrive too late. He was just about to lunge for the chief's gun arm when Jaime winced as she put her weight onto her bad leg and swung the other knee up and into Morissey, delivering the only type of kick guaranteed to take him down and keep him there. He barely had time to grimace in pain; he was unconscious before he hit the ground.

"Guess he'll be firing blanks now," Jaime remarked, right before she fainted.

- - - - - -

Jaime returned to full awareness gradually, in very small doses. Her eyes opened briefly on the Medivac flight to the hospital, in the hallway as she was wheeled into the operating room and several times over the next 36 hours as she rested in a hospital bed. Each time, no matter where she found herself, one detail had remained constant – Steve's loving face smiled down at her as he gently held her hand. Finally, she opened them again and Steve could see the fog had lifted; Jaime was awake.

"Hi, Beautiful," he said softly.

"Any chance I just had a really long, really awful dream?"

"Los Angeles – and Ojai – had the nightmare," Steve told her. "_You_ ended it, Sweetheart. You scared me to death, taking off like that, but...you were _amazing_! Rudy's already fixed your arm and patched up your leg, so you're gonna be fine before you know it, and -"

"Oh, good; just in time to go to prison, huh?" Jaime whispered.

"You're not going to prison."

"Steve, I did what I did – no matter who he was, I walked into that station and -"

"And what? Sweetheart, the most you'd be looking at now is disturbing the peace. Believe me, the DA has no interest in pursuing _any _charge against you. He's got a whole lot bigger fish to fry."

"Morissey?" Jaime concluded. Her voice was growing weaker but still vibrated with anger when she pictured the former police chief's face. "I hope he _does_ fry."

"You know, we can talk about all of this later. You need to rest."

"What about the little girl?" Jaime persisted. "Is she alright?"

"Physically, she'll recover," Steve said quietly. "I guess you know what a long road she'll have to travel..."

"Yeah." Jaime was silent for a moment, then wiped away a single tear – one shed for the girl, rather than herself. "How old is she?"  
"Twelve."

"Did he -?"

"Yeah. She's a strong kid, but -"

"You talked to her?"

"Just for a few minutes. I...took her statement, since this is a Federal case now."

"Strong isn't enough, Steve. She's gonna need support, understanding and...I – I'm gonna help her."

Steve smiled. "I had a feeling you'd say that."

- - - - - -


	8. Epilogue

Epilogue

_Four Months Later_

Steve sat on his front porch, contentedly sipping coffee as he watched Jaime and Cassie – the young girl Jaime had taken under her wing – saddle up two of his horses. For the last three Saturdays in a row, ever since Morissey's trial had ended, Jaime had brought the girl to visit Steve's ranch. Steve was happy to see the young girl gradually beginning to relax and even have a little fun, and he'd noticed their visits seemed to have a therapeutic effect on Jaime, too. He was so enthralled as he watched them riding gracefully across the meadow that he didn't notice he had more company.

"Hey, Pal – anybody home?" Oscar said lightly.

"It's good to see them both happy," Rudy added, as everyone shook hands and found chairs on the porch.

Steve nodded. "It's been a long road, but Cassie's finally breaking out of her shell – at least a little bit. She looked right at me and said 'good morning' today."

"She's made amazing progress," the doctor observed.

"They both have," Steve agreed. Jaime had chosen to tell Rudy about her college trauma while she was in the hospital, and she'd told Oscar a few days before the trial. While Steve would never have betrayed her confidence himself, he was glad they knew. At times, he needed to talk about it, too. "I think that in helping Cassie, Jaime's finally been able to start slaying her own demons. I took her out for dinner last night, and she told me she's been sleeping better – no more nightmares. Color's back in her cheeks, too."

"Out for dinner, Pal?" Oscar noted with a wide grin. "Sounds like the two of you are getting back on track, as well."

"Maybe; I hope so. I just...don't wanna rush her, you know?" As the horses circled past the house, beginning a second trip across the grounds, Jaime and Cassie both waved happily, and Steve, smiling broadly, returned the greeting. "For now," he told his friends on the porch, "I'm just glad they can both finally feel the sunshine."

END


End file.
